The Secret Sanchez Heir

by Cathy Williams

  Then he’d gritted his teeth in pure frustration and taken to his bedroom and then...

  And then his door had opened and she’d been there.

  As quiet as a wraith and as beautiful as the most tempting of sirens.

  And, as she’d climbed onto the bed with him, Leandro reckoned that he was, after all, just flesh and blood.

  Now, as she lay staring intently at him in the silvery light filtering through the shutters, he sighed and shook his head.

  ‘I want this,’ Abigail said, as sober as a judge. She could scarcely credit that she had walked into his bedroom, which was next to hers, as naked as the day she’d been born, not caring about the consequences. She wanted him and she was sick to death of telling herself that wanting him was no way to move on with her life. Being a martyr hurt like hell, especially when they were both living under the same roof. For one night, she didn’t want to be a martyr. Having lost him, she had woken up to how much she had lost, and it hurt more than she could ever have thought.

  ‘I’m not going to take advantage of you.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ Abigail agreed. ‘I’m going to take advantage of you.’

  He laughed in exasperation as Abigail unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them off before working on his shirt. He was the very picture of a man who was exercising as much self-restraint as he possibly could and she loved him—yes, loved him—for that.

  Loved him even though he didn’t love her and even though he probably had some stupid woman in the background ready to take her place. Abigail loved him so much that she wanted to take what was here right now and think about the consequences later. After all, she’d have a lifetime to pay her dues, wouldn’t she?

  She pushed him onto his back and climbed onto him, moving slowly and sinuously against his bare chest while she eased the shirt over his shoulders, only pausing and shifting so that he could rid himself of it. Leandro seemed to give in to his desire and put up no resistance.

  ‘Don’t let me get in the way of you taking advantage of me,’ he said huskily with a smile that turned her on even more, from the soles of her feet to the top of her head. He hooked his thumb provocatively under the waistband of his boxers and tugged it suggestively, just enough to show her how aroused he was, then smiling the smile of the victor when her eyelids fluttered and she moaned softly.

  ‘Have your wicked way with me, my darling, because I’ve missed you.’

  Don’t say stuff like that, she wanted to yell, because lines like that were what had got her where she was now, had made her think that there was more to what they had than there actually was.

  When he said that he missed her, what he really meant was that he’d missed the sex.

  Which meant that there wasn’t another woman. Not yet. Because he wouldn’t be here if there was. She just knew that.

  Right now, she just wanted to hold him tight. She planted her hands on either side of him and leant over, lowering her breasts for him to take into his mouth, a nipple at a time. Head flung back, she groaned without restraint as he laved one hardened nipple with his tongue, while holding her other breast and massaging it. He moved between the two and took his time.

  Then he cupped her behind and Abigail daringly edged up, straddling him and inching her way towards his mouth in small, sinuous stages until she positioned herself just where his tongue could flick devastatingly against her. He tickled her with the tip of his tongue and she released a long, shuddering moan. Her breathing was shallow and fast and, as he continued to taste her between her legs, she moved against his mouth. She felt little shivers of excitement racing like quicksilver through her veins, signalling an orgasm if she didn’t stop to gather herself, but for a little while longer she enjoyed what his mouth was doing.

  He was big and hard for her when it was her turn to taste him. Leandro angled her body, sliding her over him, and they tasted one another.

  He couldn’t get enough of her. He’d gone mad when he’d seen her dancing on that dance floor, seen the way other men had been eyeing her, and the way that guy had been circling her, waiting to make his move.

  Was it simply possessiveness?

  Something weird and disconcerting kicked inside him and he buried the odd sensation in the only way he knew how.

  With sex.

  He took over and Abigail loved it. He was so powerful and yet tender between the sheets. Her body was thrumming when, after an eternity, he thrust into her with long, deep strokes that drove her wild. Fingers biting into his waist, she moved against him, finding the rhythm that was theirs and moving to its beat, their bodies as one as sensation built and built between them.

  She climaxed on a wave of shuddering ecstasy that went on and on and on, taking her to ever higher peaks which were made all the more amazing because she knew that he was coming as well, his body arching and stiffening under the impact of his own orgasm.

  In sex, they truly became one person.

  As they descended back down to Planet Earth, Abigail marvelled that she could have translated that complete physical union as a uniting of the mind, soul and spirit as well.

  And what, she wondered in sudden raw confusion, was she going to do now?

  He was back in bed with her and she didn’t want to let him go, but thinking like that made her feel like a coward after the stand she had taken. How could she love someone who was so indifferent to her that he’d point-blank refused to answer a simple question? When he knew that the answer would have meant so much to her? They might not be married, but they’d been lovers and parents to a child. How did secrecy fit into that scenario?

  Bitter tears tried to push their way through as stark regret began to invade her. Yet when Leandro scooped her against him she was happy to let him. She flattened her hands against his chest and breathed him in deeply, then sighed.

  ‘Okay,’ Leandro told her roughly. ‘You win.’

  Abigail drew back and squirmed into a position that allowed her look at him. ‘What have I won?’

  ‘You asked me who I was talking to on the phone.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,’ she lied with a dull flush. ‘And it’s not some kind of game, Leandro. We were supposed to be...trying...and it...it hurt thinking that you were talking to a woman on the phone. And it hurt to realise that you couldn’t even respect what we had enough to tell me who it was. I know I have no rights over you but you wanted to know who that guy was...the one I was dancing with...and I told you. You’d rather walk away than tell me and, for me, that could only mean you were talking to someone you plan on sleeping with.’

  Leandro groaned, lay flat on his back and stared up at the ceiling because everything she said made sense. He’d been an idiot and he couldn’t blame her for laying into him. He’d let his pride rule him. ‘I’m not accustomed to...answering to other people,’ he admitted gruffly. ‘But I should have just told you and I... I apologise.’

  Abigail closed her eyes for a few seconds, astounded that she had won this concession, and astounded that he had apologised to her. True, it wasn’t a flowers-and-chocolates kind of apology, but she knew instinctively how much it took for someone like Leandro to say sorry, someone who didn’t, as he had said, answer to other people.

  ‘So, who was it?’ she asked coolly, pressing him for an answer.

  ‘My sister. I was talking to Cecilia.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ABIGAIL STIFFENED AND drew away from him. Aside from that one conversation two months ago, Cecilia had not been mentioned. Where was she? She could have set up residence on Mars, for all Abigail knew. Leandro never mentioned her, and Abigail knew better than to initiate any conversation about her, because she was all too aware of the unshakeable bond between them. At least, out of their sight, she could do no more damage—although why on earth hadn’t Leandro said at the ti
me who he had been talking to? Unless the conversation had been an awkward one. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out what that awkward subject might have been.

  ‘How is she?’ Abigail asked, trying to sound concerned, and Leandro looked at her wryly.

  ‘I’m sensing real interest there,’ he remarked, but his face was serious and thoughtful and she couldn’t help but feel a wave of unease. He would always at least partly believe the picture Cecilia painted of herself and presented to him. Lately, it might have taken a dent, and perhaps he wasn’t quite as forgiving in his responses as once he might have been, but essentially Cecilia could do no wrong. She was his kid sister, he had always taken care of her, and caretaking was a habit that could never be broken.

  ‘She hasn’t been around.’ Abigail lay flat on her back, pulled the duvet up to cover her nakedness and stared at the ceiling, although in her mind’s eye she could see his face, shuttered and inward thinking.

  ‘That’s because she’s been on the other side of the world opening up my boutique hotel in Fiji. It’s been non-stop for her. She’s barely had time to surface. She’s also got involved with one of the project managers working with her, so she hasn’t had any interest in flying back to the UK when she can holiday on a South Pacific island if she needs a break.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me that she was the woman you were talking to on the phone?’ Abigail demanded, turning to look at his profile.

  ‘Like I said,’ Leandro returned without missing a beat, ‘I’m not accustomed to having questions asked about who I’m talking to, or where I’m going or with whom.’

  Abigail inhaled deeply. ‘I know we’re not married,’ she began, ‘and that in fact you’d probably feel the same way even if we were married, but as far as I’m concerned that’s not an acceptable attitude to take.’

  ‘Come again?’ Leandro turned to her, astounded that she would flatly choose to start an argument when he had earlier offered her an apology for not having told her what she had wanted to know, and when he had volunteered the information in a move that, for him, was a massive concession.

  Abigail wasn’t going to back down on this but the brooding disapproval in those eyes was wreaking havoc with her levels of courage. ‘I mean you need to make a choice, and then we can take things from there.’

  ‘I’m not following you,’ he replied, but all his senses were on red alert. He shifted so that he was on his side and they were looking at one another, eye to eye. It hadn’t escaped him that she had tugged the covers up to cover herself, and from that he gathered that this was a serious conversation, a conversation in which accidental nudity had no part. ‘What choice am I supposed to be making?’

  ‘We’re living together,’ Abigail began with a great deal more assuredness than she was feeling. Indeed, she was floundering so much inside that she marvelled that her voice hadn’t dried up completely. ‘You may think that I overreacted to your silence, but I’ve had real doubts as to whether it’s a good idea to let something develop between us.’ She sighed and looked at his shuttered, unrevealing face. At least he hadn’t turned away. At least he was listening. As far as she was concerned that was a case of so far, so good.

  ‘Did you honestly think that I was on the phone to another woman? Planning a rendezvous with her—whilst sleeping with you? On the one hand, I’m flattered that you think my energy levels are through the roof, but on the other hand I’m insulted that you would even think that I might be capable of what you have accused me of.’

  ‘I haven’t accused you of anything but there’s no room for those sorts of silences between us. If you really feel that there’s no need for you to ever explain your actions, or tell me where you’ve been if I ask, then say so right now and I will pack my bags and leave this apartment in the morning. I’ll move into the cottage with Sam, and I will never, ever try and limit your contact with him, but there will never be anything more between us. You’ll be free to do whatever you like, without anyone questioning you. In essence, you would be free to remain a bachelor and behave like one—but if we’re to be together then, as far as I’m concerned, you might not be married but you’re no longer a bachelor.’

  Just like that, Leandro knew that the rules of the game had changed and, whilst instinct was telling him to make a stand—a justified stand, because the only rules he had ever played to had been his own—there was a third party involved.

  Was he prepared to risk his relationship with his son? Because, say what she might at this point in time, if he chose to turn his back on her now, when she had effectively told him that she was prepared to give it another go, his rejection would fester inside her, and everyone knew that old saying about a woman scorned.

  And the world was full of men ready and willing to try it on with her, even if she came with a child. She had the sort of looks that guaranteed that she wouldn’t be left on the shelf for longer than five seconds. Everything in him demanded Abigail remain his.

  ‘If you insist on terms and conditions,’ Leandro drawled, ‘then I have a couple of my own.’

  ‘You still haven’t answered what I asked.’

  ‘I will do my utmost...’ he flushed darkly and she met his accompanying glare with serenity ‘...to keep you in the loop and, if you’re curious about any of my activities—which I assure you will be above board, whatever you might think—then I will satisfy your curiosity with the appropriate explanations.’

  ‘Okay.’ She paused and registered the heady relief flooding her because the past days had been hellish and she knew, seeing him tonight, that she just wanted him back whether it made sense or not. ‘What are your terms and conditions?’

  ‘You don’t turn your back on me and play the no sex card every time you want to make a point. I understand that you were hurt, but don’t think you can try to turn me into a person I will never be and then, if you think your efforts are failing, decide to withdraw sex.’

  A person who will never be in love with me, Abigail thought bravely, because if you were in love with me, compromising would come as second nature. It wouldn’t feel like a great, big sacrifice.

  It proved just how committed he was to being a good father for Sam but it still hurt her.

  ‘You stop acting as though it’s torture to take and spend the money I’ve been putting into your account.’

  ‘I do spend it. Some of it.’

  ‘You buy things for Sam and food for the house. Occasionally you might treat yourself to something cheap and cheerful. I find that insulting.’

  ‘How?’ Abigail gasped. ‘How can it be insulting if I don’t use your money?’

  ‘Take what is given in the right spirit, in the spirit in which it has been given,’ Leandro told her bluntly. ‘I see you stubbornly refusing what I can give you and it makes me think that it’s your way of telling me that your pride is greater than your desire to adapt. I have a certain lifestyle and it makes sense for you to adapt to it.’

  ‘I suppose you have a point.’

  ‘I know I do. Furthermore, we set a time limit to this exercise in self-discovery.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Here’s what I mean.’ Leandro didn’t beat about the bush. ‘I proposed to you because it was the preferred solution. Our son would benefit from having us both there, at hand, rather than being bounced around between us. You turned me down, and I appreciate that the end result was for you to establish whether we could be a functioning proposition, but there has to be a time limit to this probationary period after which we sit down and decide whether we tie the knot and make this permanent, or else walk away, knowing that we gave it our best shot.’

  Never had she seen more clearly how little love featured in his life plan that was all set to include her. Effectively he was telling her that theirs was an arrangement with benefits, and if, at the end of the day, the arrangement wasn’t working, they�
�d wash their hands of it and move on.

  ‘How do you set a time limit on something like that?’ she asked jerkily and Leandro shrugged.

  ‘Good question. It’s impossible because there can never been any guarantee that we have reached a point of knowing, for sure, that we are compatible on a long-term basis, which is why I propose we give it three months, at the end of which we decide.’

  ‘Good idea,’ she agreed painfully. ‘Three months and then, if things haven’t worked out, we can go our separate ways and get on with our lives.’ She paused and digested this, knowing that it was the best solution and would stop her from drifting hopelessly on uncertain waters, becoming more and more incapable of taking a stand, hanging on to see whether he would one day tell her that he loved her.

  * * *

  Moving out to the cottage felt like a final cutting of ties with life in London. The frantic noise and constant buzz that had been the backdrop of her life for so long gave way to the sounds of nature. Their possessions had been taken the day before by a professional removal company, including furniture from both the apartment and Greyling.

  ‘Cherry pick whatever you want.’ Leandro had shrugged. ‘And bear in mind that everything will probably be replaced at some point because I can’t imagine you’ll want to furnish the place in things you haven’t personally chosen.’

  Abigail could have told him that being fussy was not a trait she was acquainted with. But she didn’t make a song and dance about being parsimonious and being the sort of girl who didn’t need to throw money around. She had taken on board what he had said to her and had realised that her continual refusal to accept his lavish generosity was indeed something he found both bewildering and vaguely offensive.